


Take A Chance On Me

by magicianparrish



Series: The Old Guard College/University AU [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, M/M, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicianparrish/pseuds/magicianparrish
Summary: When finals week ended, Nile officially accepted the invitation to join Booker and other members of his faculty friends for drinks at Copley’s downtown. She thought it a little odd at first, because she would be with some of her professors in a very casual setting. Something she did not think would ever happen. But Booker had been just on the verge of pestering her about accepting the invite, and she had relented. When she had walked out of her last final, Nile felt as if she could finally breathe again for the first time in weeks. She felt wrung out, and figured that getting a few drinks to let loose wouldn’t kill her.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh, Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: The Old Guard College/University AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932727
Comments: 14
Kudos: 235





	Take A Chance On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to the "sequel" to my other college/university fic: When I Kissed The Teacher. All your love for that fic inspired me to write this for you all! And I kept to the theme of naming it after ABBA songs :) 
> 
> So if you haven't read the first part, I'd highly suggest it in order to fully understand the context of this fic. 
> 
> Enjoy (Not edited or beta'd)

When finals week ended, Nile officially accepted the invitation to join Booker and other members of his faculty friends for drinks at Copley’s downtown. She thought it a little odd at first because she would be with some of her professors in a very casual setting. Something she did not think would ever happen. But Booker had been just on the verge of pestering her about accepting the invite, and she had relented. When she had walked out of her last final, Nile felt as if she could finally breathe again for the first time in weeks. She felt wrung out and figured that getting a few drinks to let loose wouldn’t kill her. 

She will not admit to anyone that when she had finally accepted, she stood in front of her closet for an ungodly amount of time. Tried to figure out what she would wear to this little outing. Would she go nicer than usual, because she was going to be with a bunch of established, smart adults who all had PhDs under their belt? Or because it was happy hour at Copley’s for God’s sake, _it’s a bar_ , she should just go for a nice long-sleeve t-shirt and jeans and call it a day. She had never been more thankful for her own room in the small three-bedroom apartment than at that moment. No one could judge her but herself. 

After that mental debacle, she decided to forge a middle path. She had re-done her braids into just two, a process which was all at once time-consuming, but also in its own way therapeutic. Out with the old, in with the new. She had gone with a nice red and white leather jacket that she hadn’t broken out in a while, with a black long sleeve underneath and jeans. She did her makeup, which wasn’t too much but it made her feel like an actual adult, which was nice. And she put in a nice pair of gold hoops that had been a gift from her mother for her birthday. A nice combination of casual, but also making herself look presentable and not like an over-exhausted graduate student. 

Booker had told her to meet them at the bar at six, just at the tail end of happy hour, early enough that the college students in their post-finals bliss won’t be there just yet, (still in pre-game mode), but late enough that it wouldn’t be weird that they were there at all. She wasn’t planning on drinking all that much, because she was going to be in the presence of some of her professors. And if Booker is to be believed at all, they are all gunning for her to apply to the university’s post-graduate program, and for them to take her on as their advisee. So in some cases, it was an interview? Just a very casual, non-formal interview over drinks at the local dive bar. 

Normally, she wouldn’t mind walking downtown. She had done it many, many times during her tenure at the university, sober or not. But it was a pretty cold evening blowing in, and she wasn’t dressed appropriately to make the 25-minute walk to Copley’s, so she called a cab to take her there. She thanked the man and stepped out to the sidewalk. The sun had already set, casting a nice evening glow to the city. People were starting to come milling about, ready for the weekend. The streetlights were on, creating long shadows. It was a brisk night, causing Nile to shiver a little as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. She looked up at the sign to the bar. In simple lettering on cracked wood above the door, it read Copley’s. Nile had been there once or twice before, when her, Dizzy, and Jay had done the pub crawls hosted during the famous party weekends. It had been during one of those that Dizzy got her nickname, from doing one (or 6) too many shots, and fell to the floor immediately after. But she had never been there when it wasn’t packed to the brim with blacked-out college students. 

She felt her heart rate spike. Nile clenched her fists tightly and took some calming breaths as she stood outside the bar. She could do this. It was just drinks. Casual drinks with Booker her academic advisor, and Andy her professor, and Joe also her professor, and god damn it, _Nicky_. Nicolò di Genova, the man who Nile had wanted to throttle the entire semester for being a terrible project partner, and a student who seemed to lack any care for the class they shared. The man Nile had a terrible fascination with because she couldn’t mind her damn business when it came to gossip and drama. She wanted to know what his deal was, but couldn’t figure it out. Until Joe had decided to drop the fact that Nicky was in a romantic relationship with him. And was not really a student, but a fucking professor of history at the university. Nile had cursed him out over text messages. That whole situation left her terribly embarrassed, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle seeing him at this bar, with his friends and husband.

“Lord have mercy on my soul,” she muttered to herself, as she touched the small gold cross necklace. 

She took one last deep breath and opened up the heavy door to let herself in. The place was relatively quiet. There was some music playing softly over the speakers. The bar was dimly lit, and there were some TVs at the bar that were playing different sports games. She saw some patrons at the bar nursing their beers and shouting when a bad call was made. Booths lined the walls, with tables scattered between. 

“Nile!” she heard a voice call. She turned toward it to see it was Booker who called her, waving her down. 

Nile gave a small smile raising her hand in greeting, walking over to them. There were five of them sitting down already in a booth. She recognized most of them, but there was a sharply dressed woman sitting next to Andy that Nile didn’t know. Joe moved in, patting the vinyl seating next to him, inviting her to sit. She did, taking her purse off and putting between them. Booker was sitting on the inside next to Joe, while Nicky, Andy, and the other woman sat across from them. 

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Joe said with a bright smile. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” she said, trying not to sound awkward. 

Andy had just greeted her with a nod and raised her copper mug, which Nile assumed was a Moscow Mule. Even in the dim lighting, Nicky’s green eyes were piercing to look at. He just gave a small twitch of his lips before bringing a stem glass filled with red wine to them, taking a small sip. Nile’s first reaction was who drinks _wine_ at a bar? 

“You already know Book, Andy, and Nicky,” Joe said pointing to all of them. “This is Quýnh, Andy’s wife. She’s head of the archaeology department at our sister university.” 

The woman, Quýnh, reached over the table with a smile on her face and a hand ready. Nile shook it, mildly surprised at the strong grip she had. 

“So nice to finally put a face to the name, Andromache here wouldn’t stop talking about you,” she said. 

Nile let out a small chuckle. “You as well.” 

She stored the fact away that Andy’s real name was Andromache like she was a figure right out of a Greek myth. Based on the way she scowled at the use of it, Nile figured that Quýnh was the only person who had any rights to say her full name. 

There was still some tension between them. Nile did not know how she could integrate herself in with this group of people. They were all close friends with each other, and she felt like she was intruding on a personal gathering. Booker, bless him, finally stepped in. He slapped his hands on the table. 

“Alright, I’m getting another drink,” he declared. “Nile, do you want anything?” 

“Uh, just a water is fine,” she said. 

Joe scoffed from next to her. “Oh, you don’t have to worry. Get something, drinks are on us tonight.” 

“They are?” Andy grumbled. Joe shot her a look with his eyebrows raised, as if to say, yes they are. 

Nicky looked on silently, a small smirk on his face watching the two of them. His small silver earrings glinted in the light. Nile watched as he and Quýnh shared an amused look between each other watching their significant others duke it out. 

“Just a vodka cranberry is fine for now,” Nile said, interrupting the silent war between Joe and Andy. Booker nodded his head once. 

“Good. Now get out so I can go to the bar,” he said. Joe sighed and rolled his eyes, but they got out for him.

“You’d think Booker would want to sit on the outside, for all the times he goes to the bar,” Joe jested as they sat back down. 

They all shared a laugh at their friend's expense, which broke some of the tension at the table. Booker came back a moment later with a glass of scotch and a cup for Nile. She thanked him, and instead of letting him back in, they made room for him to sit on the outside. Nile took a sip of her drink; she winced a little. There was way too much vodka in it for her taste, but she wasn’t paying, and she felt bad for it, so she would suck it up and finish it. Her mother did not raise a quitter. 

Nile was content to watch them chat with each other. She was interested in what their lives were like outside of a university lecture hall or office. Joe always had the most to say, and always had a crazy story to tell. Nicky talked more than she ever heard him in their shared class, interjecting in Joe’s stories to correct him on his details, or to say that he’s exaggerating, or better yet, he was wrong, no Joe here’s how it actually went. 

She looked at the Italian man sitting across from her. He still looked as he had the first day she had met him. Mouse brown hair that was just on the longer side, curling under his ears, but was tousled in a way that worked for him. He still had scruff covering his jaw and lips, but it wasn’t nearly as impressive as Joe’s. He was wearing a white linen button-down shirt with the first few buttons undone. Like was sitting on the porch of a Villa in Italy, rather than a dingy bar in Northern Europe during winter. And with the glass filled with red wine, it added to whatever aesthetic he was going for. At some point, he had started to talk only in Italian, which caused her to lose the conversation. But she enjoyed the way he sounded when he was talking in his native language. Everyone else at the table was able to reply and continue on, which begged her the question, of how many languages did they all speak? And damn, they are so smart, and Nile was definitely out of her element here. She took a long sip of her vodka with a splash of cranberry juice to give her something to do, and maybe give herself some liquid courage. 

“Aw, no more languages, we’re letting Nile get left out,” Quýnh said, suddenly pointing to her. 

Nile felt her cheeks flush with heat and she began to open her mouth to protest. “No, it’s fine really!” 

“Don’t be silly,” Joe scoffed. “It’s all Nicky’s fault.” 

“Hey!” Nicky protested, a look of indignation on his face. That was the most emotion Nile had ever seen from him. 

Joe looked over at Nile with a mischievous glance. He leaned in and nodded his head towards Nicky who was taking a long sip of his wine, finishing it in one go. It was very undignified looking, coming from the well put together Italian. 

“When my Nicolò starts drinking his wine, he really shows his Italian colors. He probably didn’t even realize he had switched over languages.” 

They watched him get out of the booth muttering to himself, to get more wine. “Now that he’s going for his second glass, we’re gonna start getting the hand gestures,” Joe said, winking with a smirk on his face. Nile felt better already. 

“And the Genoa football team is playing tonight,” Booker added. “And Joe here likes to rile Nicky up about it whenever he can.” 

Joe just shrugged his shoulders. “Guilty as charged. But you do it too, Book.” 

“Yeah, only during international competitions. When Italy lost to Ireland of all countries last Euros, I thought Nicky was going to kill someone,” Booker said laughing. 

They all joined in, remembering how he had looked. Joe was wheezing laughter and wiped a tear from his eye. “Or the World Cup incident in 2006, remember that?” he gasped. 

Nile was thoroughly enjoying watching them all laugh themselves to tears over Nicky’s supposed passion for soccer. As an American, she never really kept up with it as much, as it was always on the periphery. She was much more into baseball and American football, but she doubted any of them would know who the Chicago Cubs or Bears were. 

Booker rubbed his right thigh. “Uh, yeah, Joe. I remember. Because you know, Nicky _stabbed_ me.”

Nile choked on her drink. “ _Stabbed_?” she asked. 

He cursed in French, and Nile understood those. “I can still feel the pain sometimes.” 

It was then Nicky came back with his second glass of wine. “Habibi, we were just talking about the 2006 incident.” 

Nicky then scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. He spoke rapid Italian to all of them as he made his way back into the booth. Joe just shared a look with Nile, saying, _see? I told you._

“It was barely a stab wound!” he finished in English. 

“Barely a stab wound my ass, I had to get fifteen stitches!” Booker complained. 

“Please, Book. Like you were the only French guy that got hurt that night at the hands of an Italian,” Andy said rolling her eyes with a smirk. 

“Or the only French guy who hurt an Italian guy that night,” Quýnh added helpfully. “It was a crazy night all around from what I remember.” 

“Damn, you guys take your soccer seriously over here,” Nile commented. Nicky and Booker looked over at her. She realized her mistake after a moment. “Oh sorry, _football_.” 

Once the alcohol started flowing, the conversation soon followed. Nile was able to talk with them. At one point a waitress came over and they ordered some appetizers for the table to pick at and got more drinks. Nile opted for a lighter cider for the rest of the night, which Quýnh also followed. Nicky got glasses three and four of his wine in, which to Nile’s amusement, nailed Joe’s assessment of his husband. Nicky got more talkative as the night went on, and got happy when Genoa won their match. Booker slowly sipped his whisky, putting in a few quips of his own every so often. Andy just watched in amusement as Joe and Nicky started arguing about which art style and movement was better, Southern or Northern Renaissance. 

“You’re just biased because you’re Italian,” Joe accused good-naturedly. 

“Well it is not my fault we create the best art,” Nicky had retorted in a surprisingly snotty way. 

Nile was really enjoying this other side of Nicolò di Genova. She wouldn't have ever thought of him this way. But he was relaxed and obviously comfortable with all of them to let his guard down. 

“Well I think Dadaism was getting somewhere,” Booker said just to stir shit. It launched them into a whole other tangent, with Joe the resident art expert, leading the way.

Nile was also able to get heavily involved in the conversation. She was feeling the drinks at that point. It was also then that the food came to the table. Nile took a tortilla chip and scooped it into the chicken, spinach, and artichoke dip, which tasted heavenly and reminded her of home. Everyone dug in, while still holding a conversation about art movements. Nile spoke of the Harlem Renaissance as a movement of art, a topic she was very passionate about. All of the adults were not American and had not known much of it. Joe seemed to know the most out of them, but even his knowledge was limited. 

When she finished, it felt as if she could fly. They all had looks of admiration in their eyes. Nicky’s green eyes, while still piercing, were sparkling and he had a small smile on his face. Andy and Quýnh were nodding their heads in approval, and Andy with her eyebrows raised and a smile. Booker lifted his glass in cheers, and Joe was beaming at her like she had given him the gift of light. 

“ _Allahu akbar_ ,” Joe praised. “Nile, please tell me you are considering pursuing a postgraduate degree?” 

The big topic. The elephant in the room. Nile twisted the end of one of her braids and took a sip of her cider to stall for time. 

“I mean, in passing I have. But not really,” she admitted. 

“Well, I know Booker has already shared our thoughts,” Joe said, pushing Booker in the arm. “Man can’t keep a secret.” 

“It was one time, Joe,” he grumbled. 

Nicky leaned forward. “What we mean is, you have a drive of an ideal candidate. What you just said to us, about the Harlem Renaissance, it would be a perfect topic for your dissertation, should you choose to pursue.” 

Andy nodded. “Yeah, kid. You got the talent for it. And there’s a lot you can cover, that we” she said circling around all of them, “can help you with. It’s not a topic covered often by those interested in art and its history.” 

“You would really stand out as a candidate with a topic like that. Trust me, if I have to listen and read one more paper about the Italian Renaissance, I think I’ll rip my hair out,” Joe said chuckling. “No offense, _mio caro_ ,” he said to Nicky with a wink. 

“ _Va bene_ ,” Nicky dismissed waving his hand, but he was trying to hide a small smile behind his glass. 

“And I could write you a letter of recommendation,” Booker added. “Which will definitely get you in good graces.” 

“Me too!” Joe added. “Two letters of recommendation will set you over.” 

Nile was flattered that they wanted her so bad. She had never really seriously considered it. But it was nice that they all believed in her. She smiled at all of them in thanks. 

“I really appreciate it, but I think I’ll mull the decision over for a semester. I still have to graduate with my master’s first,” she said. 

“Of course, of course,” Joe nodded. “There really is no rush. The program will always be here, and honestly so will we.” 

“Yeah we sold our souls to this place long ago,” Booker said to his cup, but his eyes sparkled. 

“It also helps that Andy is also on the admissions board for the Ph.D. program,” Quýnh added helpfully with a smirk. 

“She wasn’t supposed to know that, Quýnh,” Andy said rolling her eyes. 

“Aw well,” she said with a shrug, but her face said she was not sorry at all for dropping the information. 

They ate some more appetizers and had a few more drinks. Nile wasn’t sure if she would consider these people her friends just yet. But she could definitely see her becoming a part of this group in the future. She liked how they all got along so seamlessly. All these clashing personalities complemented each other well. Andy’s stoicism, Booker’s sarcasm, Nicky’s astute observations (now that he had more than a few glasses of wine, he was back to being the quiet man Nile was familiar with), Joe’s ever-loving enthusiasm, and Quýnh’s mischief and playfulness. They shouldn’t have gotten along well, but they did. 

Nile then remembered her promise she had made to herself in Booker’s office last week. She cleared her throat. 

“So, it has also come to my attention that Nicky and Joe like to mess with the student body every so often,” she began. 

Andy let out a laugh as she leaned back in the booth, with Quýnh’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Oh, this should be good. What’d they do?” 

“Nicky decided to pose as a student in Joe’s art history class, and Joe proceeded to pair me up with him for a project,” Nile explained. 

“Yes I did,” Joe agreed. He did not look put out at all. In fact, he looked rather proud. “She cursed Nicky out over a text message. It was very funny. Nicky’s face was very scandalized.” 

“It was not funny, Yusuf,” Nicky muttered, trying to keep the alcohol-induced daze away. “I felt very bad actually. It had been a crazy week for me, and I quite honestly forgot to check my phone or email.” 

He turned to face her, his eyes looking right into her soul. “So Nile, I am deeply sorry for any trouble I put you through. _Mi dispiace_.” He even put a hand over his heart. 

Nile so badly wanted to hold that grudge. But in the end, it was so trivial, and they had gotten a perfect grade on it. While looking back in retrospect, Nile wondered if they had actually deserved the grade, or if Joe was just being very biased because it was his husband who presented. Nicky looked so sincere, and his green eyes were practically giving her puppy dog eyes. She huffed dramatically. 

“I guess you can be forgiven, Nicky di Genova,” she sighed. 

“ _Grazie, mia amica_ ,” he said. And it seemed like he really meant it. 

“So, like is there any real reason why you do it?” she wondered, looking between the two of them. 

Joe shrugged. “It’s fun. Gotta spice up the job sometimes. Also, Nicky was doing a little reconnaissance for me. I had been talking about wanting to take a Ph.D. candidate again soon, and then I met you and he wanted to make sure you were the real deal.” 

“That is why he put you and me together on a project. I wanted to see how well you do with research, and presenting in front of people, and how to work with idiots like me who do not answer their phones very well.” 

Nile gaped at the two of them. “And?” she demanded. 

“ _Buono come il pane_ ,” Nicky declared. 

“Nile, what he means is that he likes you. You passed whatever test he was giving you,” Booker said. 

“Sì,” he nodded. 

“Well, damn. That’s good,” Nile chuckled. 

They all laughed together. Nile felt like she was home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I hope you all enjoyed it :) 
> 
> Drop some comments and kudos below!


End file.
